


New Eyes

by restroomattheendoftheuniverse



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, M/M, Ral-centric, Slow Burn, You're welcome ;), i changed some stuff in Jace Alone to make it more zeleren, sorry 'bout that, that is to say, verrry slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-05-23 03:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restroomattheendoftheuniverse/pseuds/restroomattheendoftheuniverse
Summary: Normalcy is a rare thing in the life of Ral Zarek, Izzet guildmage of Ravnica. He likes it that way: it's why he joined the Izzet League in the first place.But there is abnormal, and then there is Jace Beleren. The wandering, undeserving Guildpact is just one of many reasons Ral is bound to have a stroke some day, he's sure of it—the only thing he can really thank the man for is his help with Project Lightning Bug and introducing him (in a roundabout fashion) to Kaladesh, dubbed the "Inventor's Paradise" in Ral's mind. It's the only place, really, he can go to get some well-deserved peace and quiet.But then, during one of his excursions, he catches sight of a woman in... feathers?... briefly flashing into existence on Kaladesh before fading away again.And, well... there goes his weekend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to baby's first fic! I'll be your host this evening for the Ral-centric, zeleren-ified canon rewrite of "Jace, Alone" and onwards. I have absolutely no idea how long this is going to be or even if it's going to be any good, but thank you for reading and leaving comments!!!  
> (And that, ladies and gents and nonbinary tenants, is how you passive-aggressively coerce people into talking to you, 100% effective ;) )
> 
> ALSO: I'm not rewriting stuff because I didn't like "Jace, Alone". On the contrary: I always enjoy reading what the Coastal Wizard Writers have to offer. And I absolutely LOVE the way that they've set up Jace/Vraska—it's so cute, and it's now my top favorite canon ship in MtG. But I'll leave that ship in their expert hands—for now—and simply carry on with what I do best: making things gay. Cheers!

Kaladesh was, truly, the most beautiful plane Ral had ever seen.

Granted, he hadn't seen very many—he wasn't one for travel, not usually—but that in no way lessened the awe brimming over in his chest every time he set eyes on the fantastical skyline of Ghirapur. It was an irresistible place to the Izzet mage, one that swept away nearly all of his hesitation when it came to Walking.

Nearly.

The buoying emotions were only limited by guilt that acted the part of unwelcome yet equally determined companion every time he Walked. After all, who was he to go wandering off-plane when he had told Jace off for doing the very same thing? He justified it to himself by pointing out that Jace was _the Living Guildpact,_ and as such had a far greater responsibility to Ravnica than Ral did. Despite that, he still rarely stayed off-plane for more than a few hours at a time, and he limited his visits to once a week, at most.

Which was why he was so surprised when he saw  _her_.

Ral was talking with an older human mechanic who had stopped him in the busy marketplace to ask after his gauntlet—its purpose, the invention process, etc. Ral had to get a bit creative with it, knowing how closed-off Kaladeshites could be about magic. (That had been _quite_ the lesson—he still had to avoid certain city blocks).

"So... it conducts aether?"

"Electricity."

"Avaati's undies, that's archaic."

Ral frowned at the man, offended and suddenly a little self-conscious. He opened his mouth to respond when a woman  _materialized_ behind the man, who in turn remained wholly unaware and waited expectantly for Ral to continue. The woman looked scared at first, but her face quickly fell into an expression of rapturous wonder as she beheld Ghirapur in all its shining golden beauty—doubly artistic, now, caught as it was in the half-light of dusk with an entire landscape of colorful, masterfully textured clouds hanging in the background. But then she winced, as if in pain, and she was gone just as quickly as she had appeared, leaving behind only a strange sigil of gold light that also quickly fizzled into nothingness. Ral stared at the spot even after she'd gone, then looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. But no one did—or at least, it didn't seem like it. He locked eyes with the man he'd been conversing with, who was now giving him a hybrid look of concern and wariness. 

"I... have to go."

The man shrugged, still eyeing him. "That might be for the best," he agreed. " _Electricity..."_   he mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he turned away and melted back into the hustle and bustle of the outer marketplace. Ral ducked out of the street and into a dark, narrow alley between two of the buildings, far enough out of sight of the crowd at large that his disappearance wouldn't cause too much of a panic if someone saw him.

_I've just witnessed a planeswalker ignite their spark._

It seemed obvious enough to him. He wouldn't have even bothered worrying about it had the woman just shown up out of thin air and consequently panicked/gone into shock/passed out/etc. But instead, she had instantly disappeared, most likely back to her own plane. And that was what piqued his interest, because he recalled needing a great deal more time to be able to figure out how to Walk again when he first ignited his own spark. And that sigil, and the pain on her face when she disappeared... none of that was normal. Ral was Izzet—it would be a stain upon his honor to let the mystery go unsolved. Never mind the fact that the Firemind would never hear of this venture, or that it all—probably—had nothing to do with anything Ravnican. 

 _Curiosity killed the cat_ , the voice of doubt in the back of his mind spoke up.

 _But satisfaction brought it back_ , he retorted, scoping out the area so as to ensure minimal visibility. He wound up pressing himself flat against a wooden door set about half a foot into the side of the building it led to.

 _We don't like necromancy,_ the contrary little doubter pointed out, and Ral gritted his teeth against the images it brought to mind. Primarily that of Jace, apologizing to him right before being whisked away by Lilliana, off to the very plane Ral was standing on at that moment. It was through their aether trails he had discovered the inventors' paradise—he would thank them if the memory of Jace running to Lilliana at her every beck and call didn't make him the slightest bit queasy.  _Like a dog on a leash._

Ral sighed and forcefully shoved the voice of doubt back into its corner, focusing on the task at hand: finding and following the woman's aether trail.

It was simple, really, and falling into the Blind Eternities was enough like falling into the tumultuous winds of a violent storm that it felt a bit like his soul was at home. He followed the arc of the aether trail, landing in the new plane with firm footing and his arms up in preparation for whatever might happen ('cause he'd learned this lesson the hard way, too).

And then the woman he had followed slashed his left forearm open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, I know. I'm just getting started—getting into the groove and all that jazz—so please don't bite my head off. Unbeta'd, only I know that I write fanfic in the Real World (TM). I love zeleren, and I really want more content so I was just like "why don't I just do it myself?" as if it were that easy. HAH.
> 
> So, about that whole 'electricity being archaic' deal with the Kaladeshite... In the description of Kaladesh on the WotC site, it mentions one Avaati Vya who developed a way to "refine volatile raw aether". This sparked an idea of what Kaladesh was like BEFORE aether refinement, back when they were just trying to use normal-people physics to get cool stuff done. So I now headcanon that they just barely got into the beginning of the Age of Electricity on their plane when Avaati's discovery changed EVERYTHING, and electricity was abandoned by everyone except weirdos.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding friends in low places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Angrath. Is that weird? I don't know, but Angrath is pretty great, in my mind.
> 
> We're now onto "The Third Aspect of the Sun". If y'all haven't read the Ixalan story yet, this might get a bit confusing. I'll do my best to ensure universal comprehensibility :)

_The pirate held out his hand and pointed at Huatli. "You're one too!"_

_Huatli put a hand on the ground to balance herself. The sigil above her head vanished. She shook her head._

_Words dribbled from her mouth without grace or full awareness. "I don't know what just happened."_

_Angrath was grinning as much as a bull-headed man could grin. "I've never met another one on this wretched plane! We can help each other leave!"_

_Inti had gotten back on his dinosaur and quickly looped around to stand behind his fellow knight._

_"Huatli, get up!" Inti said, holding a hand out to her. She ignored it, staring in shock at Angrath. He, too, was reaching out to her, palms up in an invitation._

_She quickly sliced at Angrath with her blade..._

 

*****

 

 Ral clasped his forearm to his chest and gritted his teeth, hissing at the pain yet grateful that her sword hadn't touched his gauntlet. He leapt backwards to get away from the flashing blade in case the woman struck again, but his backwards advance was halted by a collision with what felt like a metal pillar, and he wound up gracelessly tripping over his own feet and falling to his knees in the sand. He was now eye-level with the woman he had followed, and they stared at each other for a moment in mutual shock.

A deep, gravelly voice behind him exclaimed, "Another one!"

Ral looked back and discovered that he had apparently backpedaled into a demonic minotaur holding glowing, molten chains whose grin was seriously disturbing. He looked up at the minotaur, then at the woman, and then at the...  _thing_ standing behind the woman, acting as a steed to another human dressed in metal-and-feather armor. They all stared back.

Ral broke the spell by getting to his feet, and the woman did the same with the other feather-warrior's help. She then promptly swung herself up to sit behind the man on the feathered lizard thing he was riding and yelled, "Inti, go!"

They sped off into the jungle, leaving only swaying fronds in their wake. The minotaur yelled, "NO, WAIT!" and proceeded to run after them—futilely, Ral noted, since the minotaur's pounding stride was clearly no match for the feather-warriors' fleet-footed beast.

Ral took advantage of the sudden solitude. He inspected the cut on his arm—not too deep but pretty long, still stinging but he could ignore it easily enough—and debated leaving. He wasn't sure just what he'd been expecting, but _this_ was the furthest thing from it. The woman he'd come to the plane for had run off, the demonic bull sounded like he was stomping his way back towards Ral, and Ral didn't feel nearly as in-control of the situation as fit within his comfort zone. His best guess with the data at hand: the minotaur's molten chains had the ability to keep a planeswalker from Walking. The woman had gotten away, so she was fine now. Ral's best course of action would be to leave, now, before the minotaur came back.

And so he did. Ral stepped into the Blind Eternities, felt the rush and saw his lab drawing closer. But then he was  _yanked_ back, as though someone had gone fishing, gotten a hook dug deep into his essence, and was now reeling him in. Ral was slammed back into the sand, and he saw above him that same glowing sigil that had lingered after the woman disappeared from Kaladesh.

The minotaur was only just returning, irritably swatting aside any plant-life that obstructed his path. He caught sight of the sigil above Ral just before it fizzled out, and Ral scrambled to his feet. "What did you do to me?" He saw the minotaur's bristly fur begin to rise in the field of static electricity that arose with Ral's ire.

"What? That?" The minotaur snorted, tendrils of smoke curling up from his nostrils to dissipate in the wind. "I didn't do it. I'm trapped, too."

"What do you mean  _trapped?_ _"_ Ral growled. He attempted to planeswalk again, but ran into the same barrier. The sight of his lab, so close yet indelibly out of reach, sent frustrated sparks dancing across his skin and through his hair.

"It's this place," the minotaur explained, stomping off down the beach towards the sound of a rioting crowd. Ral just noticed the black cloud of smoke billowing up into the sky, its origin on the other side of a copse of trees jutting out and blocking their view. "You enter, but you cannot exit. Once in... there is no out."

Finding nothing better to do than follow the man with the answers, Ral marched after him with a sinking sense of dread.

"Why were you chasing after that woman? Who is she?"

"The other one called her 'Huatli', so I suppose that is her name. She is like us."

"So you don't actually know her?"

The minotaur shook his head. "She's a knight of the Sun Empire—I joined the Brazen Coalition. We should be enemies, but she can Walk, which means I could have an ally closer to the Immortal Sun, so she is no longer my enemy." The minotaur brought a hand up to his chest and then brought it away to look at. Ral saw that it was covered with a reddish-gold liquid—probably the creature's blood. The minotaur frowned down at it. "Even though she does this."

Ral privately thought that Huatli probably wanted nothing to do with him as an ally, but he kept that to himself. "What's your name? How did you get trapped here? And what  _is_ 'here'?" 

"I am Angrath." Angrath side-eyed him. "And you ask many questions without giving much in return. Who are you?"

Ral shrugged unapologetically. "Ral Zarek, of Ravnica."

Angrath curled his lip in distaste. "Messy city. Too loud."

Ral bristled at the slight against his plane. "Better than this place."

They rounded the bend, and Angrath let out a bellow of outrage at the sight before them. "I agree," Angrath growled before taking off towards the crowd of people running around beside a giant bonfire on the beach in front of a large ship. By the way everyone was acting, Ral could tell the bonfire was definitely not supposed to be there.  _Might as well make some friends,_ he decided. As he approached the fire, he tapped into the plane's mana. He called upon the cool ocean and the sun's heat, and felt the storm as it coalesced over their position, blocking out the light of midday and sending a sudden torrential downpour over the panicking crew. He held it back from simply raging, despite how the little arcs of lightning danced around him, instead drawing more from the ocean and focusing on bringing water raining down. The crowd started cheering, and as Ral drew nearer he could tell that they were starting to notice him. He kept the storm up until the fire was little more than smoldering ashes, the supplies it was burning through still half-extant, if soggy.

A goblin in white-and-red-striped pants ran up to him, her little dagger grasped firmly in one hand but not pointed at Ral. "Who're you, storm mage?"

Ral inclined his head. "Ral Zarek."

A human walked up to him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You Coalition?"

Recalling his brief conversation with Angrath, he nodded. "We were shipwrecked a couple days ago. I don't think anyone else survived—at least, I didn't see anybody."

Angrath wandered over. "He's with us, now." The small crowd that had gathered to learn more about the mysterious storm mage all just shrugged and nodded, taking Angrath's word as law and relaxing now that they no longer considered Ral to be an outsider. "Everything back on the ship—we need new supplies. We sail for High and Dry." Everyone went back to sorting out the salvageable supplies from the destroyed, putting the good supplies back on the ship. Ral nearly got whiplash from how quickly the mood changed.

He raised his eyebrows at Angrath. "Captain, then?"

Angrath nodded, smug. "Can't wait to tell my daughters."

"For now," Ral segued, "you can tell me more about that Immortal Sun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Ral the Izzet guildmage with a band of infamous pirates, ey? I'd argue that he's just as bull-headed as the rest of them. *cue laughter*
> 
> See, Ral isn't really... a good guy. I don't think I'd like him so much if he were. He's prideful and ruthless and cunning. That's why I like him, Jace, and Vraska so much -- they've all spent a lot of their time in the gray areas of morality, so when they do good it's a conscious decision, not a knee-jerk reaction like with Gideon and others like him. Nothing against good people, of course, or against Gideon, it's just that it feels more impactful -- at least for me -- when someone who's seen and done some shit decides to do what's right. Ral hasn't really had the character development that Jace and Vraska have, though, and *spoilers for Magic Story* the fact that Bolas told Tezzeret to fetch Ral has me SHOOK and wondering if he actually is going to turn out to be a bad guy. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. So, for now, I'm choosing to have my merciless, conniving little Izzet mage be changed for the better.
> 
> Also, the judgmental eyebrow-raise is totally Ral's signature Thing, and no one can convince me otherwise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *returns suddenly and unprovoked from the abyss*   
> Hey, how're things? Sorry 'bout that whole 'not posting for months' deal, I've been distracted and busy and uninspired. But I got into working on a project for another fandom, and I was reminded of this work, so here I am! I can't guarantee regular postings, but I don't think any more lengthy hiatuses are in my future, so there's that.

It took Ral less than a day to regret ever signing on with Angrath’s crew.

Most of it was spent sequestered away in the cabin he had been offered, trying to figure out just what it was that kept him stranded on this plane. That kept them  _ all  _ stranded.

He reached for every plane he could think of—Ravnica (of course), Kaladesh, Zendikar, a couple others he had heard stories of. At one point, he just attempted to hurl himself out into the Blind Eternities itself, the only destination in mind being the black emptiness between planes. He was thrown back to the wood floor every time, and without fail that patronizing little sigil would hang for a few seconds over his head before blinking out.

It was frustrating.

No, not frustrating.  _ Challenging _ . This was just another Implicit Maze to bend his mind to, though he hoped it would not prove to be as absolutely draining. By the end of that whole fiasco, Ral had begun to wonder whether  _ he  _ was the weird and Melek the real Izzet guildmage. Not that he could ever swap notes with him, since the weird was no more.

Ral sighed to himself. “Challenge,” he said aloud to the empty room in an effort to halt the tangential train of thought. “It’s a problem, so  _ solve it.” _

Ral’s only resource was several decades’ worth of mental postulation on the mechanics of planeswalking, which led him to a simple (i.e. the only) experiment he could perform that had a greater-than-zero chance of giving him something useful.

So, with nothing better to do and no other solutions manifesting themselves in his brain, Ral spent the next couple of hours throwing himself into the Blind Eternities and recording the amount of time it took for the effect to kick in and slingshot him back to Ixalan (which was a problem in and of itself, as gauging time whilst planeswalking was no easy feat).

Once he got the timekeeping sorted, he discovered that Ravnica and Kaladesh each took four seconds,  Zendikar only one, Innistrad and another nearly six, and the final a full ten seconds. 

Upon gathering all the data he felt it necessary to collect, Ral sat down and mulled it all over. The conversation he had held with Angrath when he first boarded still intrigued him: how the minotaur had been trapped there for years, occasionally stumbling across other planeswalkers who also got stuck. Some survived—others did not. Angrath was of the category that not only survived, but went on to  _ thrive _ in this race he had no choice but to participate in. On Torrezon, it was either join the Legion, join the Coalition, or be thrown to the wayside—and Angrath was, clearly, not the type of man to stand aside when there was action to be taken.

The Immortal Sun, too, was fascinating. Angrath had described it as an artifact which would grant its wielder immortality, wealth, and power over both men and nature. Ral was not fooled by this description, though—he knew better than to chase after fairy tales. What  _ did _ seem realistic about the artifact was the fact that, regardless of the wish-like things it promised, everything it was said to do would require a vast amount of energy, and energy was something Ral could deal with. In his mind, the Immortal Sun was no wish-granter: it was a power source. Whatever its original purpose, he could find a way to make it suit his own.

He realized it  _ was _ the plane holding planeswalkers hostage, or at least something on it that was. Had the timing been the exact same no matter where he tried to go, he would still be left wondering—whether the effect was a physical barrier immediately around the plane or some enchantment put on planeswalkers, he would never know. However, that was not what his results told him: instead, Ral was able to reach the conclusion that it was a field of force—the kind that could, hypothetically, be broken free of given enough force in the opposite direction.

With, say, the energy of the Immortal Sun.

He grinned and finally left his room, making straight for the Captain. He found Angrath on deck towards the bow and pulled him to the side so that others would not disturb or overhear them.

Ral announced excitedly, “Whatever is keeping us here, it's because of the plane.” 

Angrath nodded in agreement. When nothing else was forthcoming, he snorted and said,”That's obvious enough even  _ I _ coulda told you that, Zarek.”

Ral scowled up at the bull-man. “Only if you're ignorant enough to not even consider other possibilities. What if it wasn't a barrier around the planet, and instead was an enchantment put on planeswalkers when they landed here? You would have been hunting for the entirely wrong solution, without hope of success, stranded for the rest of your life chasing a pipe dream.”

Angrath just blinked at him with his burning eyes. “But it isn't.”

Ral bit back the urge to yell at the Captain, quite aware of the fact he was there upon  _ his _ decree and could just as easily be thrown overboard by it. A survivable prospect, but not the most favorable.

“No—fortunately for your quest, it is not. And this Immortal Sun, too, seems to be our best bet for acquiring an energy source strong enough to break from the field's influence.”

Angrath waved his hand, dismissing the notion entirely. “Of course the Immortal Sun can get us out of here. I never doubted it.”

_ You should have, _ Ral silently berated, grinding his teeth to keep quiet.

“How long before we reach that High and Dry place?”

“Another week or so,” Angrath informed him.

_ Fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, Ral is ensnared in the race for the Immortal Sun. The description for Ixalan says that the story is about desire, so that's a theme I'll have fun working with :)  
> Kudos if you liked, comments if you did or didn't - either way, I love your guys' feedback <3


End file.
